by Kim Krizan
Being Stretched on the Rack
Fortunately, aging isn’t fatal to Fatale allure. A face can be lived-in without losing its charms, but there is no reason for the femme seductress to advertise her years of experience to the world. Dietrich sucked lemons before she appeared in front of the camera so as to make her mouth appear taut. She also, in a bid for gold in the willing-to-endure-any-torture-for-beauty Olympics, had her hairdressers make tiny braids on the sides of her scalp that were pulled up and back to hoist her face heavenward for a lifting effect.
A variation on Dietrich’s method, one used by Hollywood Fatales to give them a very literal lift, is to create pincurls directly above the ears and at the very top of the head. They must be well-secured to the scalp with a number of criss-crossing bobby pins. Then the Fatale must take rubber bands, hook them into the bobby pins at the top of the scalp and then stretch and secure the bands to the pincurls above the ear. The flesh will be pulled up and back by the rubber bands, creating a temporary facelift. It is necessary to style the hair in such a way that the whole contraption is disguised, perhaps under a scarf, hat, or wig. No doubt her head will hurt like hell—but at least it’ll be tied back and out of her way while she goes about her business.
Fortunately, there are other methods.
Making Faces at Mortality
The face, like the body, can be exercised. Long before face-lifts were common, ingenious Fatale ladies, faced with their own mortality in the form of drooping jowls and other indignities, devised methods for plumping everything back up. Anaïs Nin owned a cool little machine that stimulated the facial muscles with a slight electric charge, thereby filling them out and preventing them from deflating. But there must be something even simpler, no? Here is where Elinor Glyn, the lovely early-20th century British writer of naughty books, comes in. Fortunately she revealed her secrets in her beauty book, entitled Eternal Youth, published in 1928:
When I was twenty-five it seemed to me the most terrible thing that in a very few years my face would lose its youth and comeliness and that I should grow to look like some of the middle-aged women I knew.
I used to sit opposite people in the Tubes and trains and study their faces, especially those of women of from forty-five years old onwards. It became a kind of obsession with me. There was I, twenty-five years old and good-looking, watching the various expressions of what I might become in twenty short years.
How I detested this look of middle-age.
My husband used to laugh at me and say that the thing that really mattered was what was inside a face! What it stood for, so to speak. If it expressed courage, kindliness and generosity, he did not think it mattered much that there were a few lines and wrinkles on it.
The higher side of my character agreed with him in principle, but the other side, that irrepressible low Eve, who I am afraid inhabits most women, felt all the same that she would give anything not to develop those ugly lines and folds of skin, even if they might bespeak courage, kindliness and generosity.
And so Ms. Glyn developed a series of facial exercises, ones that she proclaimed kept her face in place well beyond the dreaded pumpkin hour. Here is the first exercise, one she developed for the “Mylo Hyoid and the Digastric Muscles,” which, she writes, will reduce a double chin:
Procure a book about the size of an ordinary novel. It should have a hard cover, not one of paper. Hold this book in both hands so that the two ends rest on the lower part of the palms not the fingers. Now place the flat broad side or the cover right under the chin, so that the chin sits on the book, so to speak, and the edge of it touches the neck where the throat and chin join.
Then press the book up very hard against the chin, and as you do this open your mouth as if you were forcing it open against the pressure of the book, which is forcing it shut.
Glyn advised doing the previous exercise every morning five times at ten seconds a try with little rests in between. The exercises may look positively ugly to perform (the Fatale would rather die than do them in public), but so do most of the Fatale’s secret schemes.
Japanese Hijinks
Another well-kept secret is that sleeping on the back is better for the face, as was proven by our Fatale friends on the other side of the Pacific. Japanese seductresses used to wear extremely beautiful and elaborate hair-dos, so elaborate that these ladies couldn’t sleep on regular pillows without ruining their hair-sculptures. And so these Fatale vamps trained themselves to sleep with only a “brick” under the head. Yes, their hair looked fantastic, but also, as a kind of surprise byproduct, they were said to have smooth, unlined faces and jawlines, partially because they didn’t smoosh their faces into their mattresses for eight hours every night.
Natural is Not Nice
Though a femme fatale won’t advertise it some do indulge in surgical help, which they coyly refer to as “rejuvenation” treatments. You see, “natural” doesn’t appeal much to Fatales. Similes about fine wine aside, it’s “natural” for things to fall apart and get ratty and disintegrate. It’s “natural” to die at age 40 after having fourteen babies, most of whom died in infancy. It’s “natural” to be disfigured by smallpox or to contract influenza or cholera and die an awful death. It’s “natural” to get eaten by lions.
On the other hand, civilization and society—that most artificial escape from “idyllic” nature—has produced an exotic creature: the plastic surgeon. The Fatale is not particularly swayed by the argument that what matters is what’s on the inside. No one sees the femme fatale’s stunningly attractive internal organs. She knows she is a physical being in a world where appearance matters.
Warpaint
Cosmetics as Weapons of Mass Seduction
“I followed her through the sitting room, stepping over velvet ottomans and fur rugs, through a beaded curtain into her boudoir. The walls were hung with cretonne prints and the air reeked of heavy musk. There was a caged snake on a shelf … . She seated me on a carved teakwood stool and went to work. When she was finished, I was something more than a knockout. I had rings of kohl darkening my eyes and a dusting of indigo. My mouth was arched in a deep-red Cupid’s bow and white powder accentuated my already pallid skin. As a final touch, Miss Bara took a rabbit’s foot dipped in rouge and applied it to my earlobes.”
—Leatrice Joy (who reminisced of when, as a young
actress, Theda Bara made her up for a date)
A woman of Fatale persuasion will use every weapon in her arsenal … and especially those that come in a little cosmetic bag.
Director Kenneth Anger claimed that Anaïs Nin had the biggest cosmetic case he had ever seen. Dietrich was even elected an honorary member of the studio makeup and hairdressers union. And when Lana Turner’s apartment building caught on fire and she had to flee, she did so reluctantly. This proves that, in the femme fatale’s mind, it may be better to burn alive than be seen without her eyebrows.
Some Fatales, though, use a bit of reverse-psychology. When Anaïs Nin felt the need to reassure her husband that she wasn’t going to be catting around in-transit as she left on a little solo vacation, she eschewed wearing her usual “face.” (Little did he know how easy it is for a skilled siren to apply eyeliner, even in a lurching train car.)
In his book Ava: Portrait of a Star, publicist and manager David Hanna described Ava Gardner’s mid-air make-up application:
Although Ava used very little make-up she applied it with skill and care, a time-consuming task under normal conditions—a hundred times more difficult in the air because of the confined space and poor lighting. But having traveled so widely, Ava had become an expert and could sneak in an eye line between ‘turbulence’ as deftly as before her make-up mirror at home. Combing and arranging her hair were timed to the second and, at the last moment, Ava floated into the ladies’ lavatory to change into whatever costume had been chosen for the arrival. When she stepped out of the powder room and surveyed herself in the large hand mirror that somehow found a place in the make-up box, a s
tatus expert would have no trouble in identifying her as a movie star.
The Canvas
Fatales of the early 20th century created their own base make-up by dabbing cream on their faces and then powdering the hell out of it, essentially creating what we now call “foundation” in a two-step process. Modern Fatales have it easier, if one thinks wading through hundreds of choices easier, though the classic femme fatale face has always been matte and powdered-down. This look is adult and elegant, but it takes skill to achieve and effort to maintain. To keep the look in check and prevent it from getting shiny, the tried-and-true pressed powder compact can be used throughout the day.
If the Fatale uses rouge or blush, she does so judiciously. She is not a flushed ingenue, shy, ashamed, and embarrassed as a virginal maiden. Dietrich quit using rouge when Mercedes De Acosta, her stylish lesbian friend, told her that it wasn’t congruous with Dietrich’s Fatale style and suggested she emphasize the dramatic contours of her bone structure. Indeed, the non-blushing, hollow-cheeked look is a femme fatale classic. Dietrich also applied a thin line of highlighter straight down the center of her nose, which she complained was shaped like “a duck’s behind,” so as to make it appear more regal and less flat.
Still, a few sly femme fatales prefer to style their faces counter to expectations into deceptively rosy visages of innocence. Monroe’s method was to make up her face with carefully applied foundation, then to dab very thin layers of Vaseline to her cheeks to achieve a healthy, glowing effect. Whatever her choice, the femme fatale knows that her facial skin acts as canvas to her artwork, most notably the eyes and lips.
The Windows to Her Dark Soul
Fatale ladies love a dramatic eye, whether smoky, lined, or bearing palm frond eyelashes.
One of the best eye cosmetics of all time can be found in Morocco and is called kohl. Kohl is made from a natural black mineral substance found in Africa’s parched deserts and Bedouin women use it to shade their eyes from the intense sun (as well as to look rad while riding around on camels). They apply kohl by dipping a cotton-covered stick in a little pot full of the stuff, putting the stick in the inner corner of their closed eye, and pulling it quickly along the lid to the outer corner. This, of course, will scare the hell out of the non-Bedouin femme fatale and make her sure she’s been rendered blind, but the result will be perfectly-lined and mysterious-looking eyes that last for a long long time. In lieu of excursions to Northern Africa, Marlene Dietrich lit a match and mixed the carbon with a bit of baby oil, then smudged the results on her eyelids.
Vampy starlets of the ’20s applied black make-up all around their eyes and then smudged it up into the crease. In the ’30s, Garbo’s eye make-up was based on a stage technique. A strong line was drawn using eyeliner just below the bottom lid, which created an “empty space” along the outside corner of the lid. Then the upper lid was lined and drawn down to meet the lower line. This caused the line to appear to dip low at the outside corner. The crease of the eye was emphasized with shadow and was also drawn down to meet the lower line. The lashes were then copiously mascara-ed. The result was a kind of sad, melancholy eye with a dramatically enlarged and extended shape. This “Garbo eye” technique was alluring enough for Marilyn Monroe to borrow.
In the ’30s and ’40s Hollywood make-up artists did not line the bottom eye, but, rather, drew a white or almost-white line on the lower waterline. This was thought to “open” the eyes, leaving them free of enclosing lines that were thought to limit their size.
The Fatale also adores liner that wings up at the corners for an exotic, Eastern look. This technique was developed in the 1950s and the result was referred to as “doe eyes” or “cat eyes.” It called for the top lid to be lined all the way from the inside corner, extending out past the outer corner and curving up to varying heights and using varying thicknesses. The lower lid was lined lightly with pencil and curved up to meet the upper wing. Another related and effective method is to bring a thick line up above the outer corner so that it never dips below its height at mid-eye level; this leaves the eyes “open” at the outside corners and creates a more exaggerated Asian eye. So successful was this method that it became a Fatale classic.
Fatales are not clowns and usually don’t like a lot of garish color. In fact, the classic femme fatale eye is nearly color-free, but if she lives in a marble palace and rules half the world the femme fatale should go ahead and throw on the eyeshadow in whatever the hell color she wants. Which brings us to The Year of Our Lord 1963. It was then that every budding Fatale with a theater ticket got a tremendous kick out of Elizabeth Taylor’s make-up in “Cleopatra”: the pale blue shadow from lid to brow with wildly elongated black eyeliner that inspired millions of potential world rulers to do the same. The look is both powerful and seductive, and La Liz admitted that after her make-up guy designed it she applied it herself (in true, self-reliant femme fatale fashion).
The femme fatale also makes use of her eyelash curler and mascara, and has probably tried false eyelashes. Dietrich’s falsies were affixed to the outer corners of her upper eyelids, which gave her eyes an exotic upward tilt.
The All-Important Eyebrow
Femme fatales always have kick-ass eyebrows—no exception—and they usually have a beautiful arch. How arching is up to them, but their eyebrows are never unkempt.
Sometimes it seems that whole Hollywood careers were based on eyebrows (just as, recently in Hollywood, whole careers have been based on boobs, which makes one realize that, really, brows are the boobs of the face). Most silver screen Fatales, such as Lana, removed their brows completely and forever redrew them, often above their natural ones, though Ava Gardner bravely defied studio make-up protocol and wouldn’t let anyone touch hers.
Dietrich’s drama-making brows changed radically from year to year and supply a view of the continuum of the Hollywood style, which evolved from ’20s wistful longing (thin, elongated, and rising above the nose) to the ’30s thin antennas of sly sophistication (rising to various heights at the temples) to ’40s thicker, more natural shapes (but still clean and defined) to the ’50s thick and dramatically arched brows (which imitated birds and tadpoles) to thick, short punctuation marks of the ’60s … and then the whole gamut were recycled again.
The Better to Kiss Her Detective
The femme fatale must have lips, definite lips, vivid lips, for they truly bring the femme fatale’s face alive. Hollywood Fatales drew their lips in a vast array of shapes, including the “Cupid’s bow” of the 1920s, the fuller and more rounded upper lip line of the ’30s (including the sneering “smear” popularized by Crawford), and the slightly exaggerated lip of the ’40s or ’50s (in which the points of upper lip—the V—were exaggerated and sharpened). Lip color was almost always some version of red, though in the ’60s Liz Taylor’s Cleopatra wore a pale pink mouth for a nude effect—the better to emphasize her amazing eyes—while in Mrs. Robinson’s case, her beige lipstick was simply killer with her dark eyes and exotic tan.
Ladies room attendants of yesteryear reported that Marlene Dietrich was never once seen re-doing her lips, even after long, multi-course meals—which showed that the lady had priorities. The old school trick for making lipstick more long-lasting is to leave the tube open without the cap, which will dry it out and make it adhere longer.
Femme Fatale Manicure and Pedicure
Most notoriously, femme fatales are known for their superb long, dark talons. In bygone years vamps filed their nails into points and painted them Jungle Red (a nail polish color made famous by the original film “The Women”). Today the Fatale might bend to the vicissitudes of fashion, but she usually sticks to what for her are classic colors: reds, burgundies (including Chanel’s now classic “Vamp” and Revlon’s “Vixen”), and clear or nude shades. Likewise, the femme fatale’s toenails are always attended to, even in winter, and the most oft-spied varnish hue is red.
Fatale Scents
Thousands of years ago the King of Babylon was said to hav
e passed a law requiring his people to wear perfume, and somewhere in her soul the femme fatale remembers and obeys. Here are some wonderful Fatale perfumes:
•Jungle Gardenia (the 1940s classic and Joanie Crawford’s fave)
•Tabu
•My Sin
•Poison
•Opium
•Fracas (which fittingly means “fight” in French)
•Bandit
•Chloe Narcisse
•Quelches Fleurs (which was created over 200 years ago and is said to have been worn by Marie Antoinette)
•Acqua di Parma (worn by Ava Gardner)
•Jivago
•Bvlgari Omnia
•Bvlgari Pour Femme
•Tuber Rose by Mary Chess (Lana Turner’s favorite scent)
•Mitsouko (worn by Anaïs Nin in the 1920s)
•Alien
•Femme de Caron
•Bond no. 9 Nieuts de Nolio
•Bond no. 9 Chinatown
•Panthere de Cartier
Sartorial Sin
A Wicked Wardrobe and Why It’s Essential
“All my dresses are beautiful. They gotta be in this racket. There’s nothin’ like clothes; that’s the sugar that makes the flies come round.”